


Smut Shots

by chaoswandas



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Established Relationship, F/M, Light Bondage, Literally all this is gonna be is smut, Masturbation, Multi, Name-Calling, No Aftercare, Oral Sex, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, sergeant kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-18 02:24:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12378906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoswandas/pseuds/chaoswandas
Summary: A collection of smutty one shots carried over from my tumblr.The first chapter will serve as an index and will be updated as each new piece is added.





	1. The Index

1\. [To Please Him, To Please You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12378906/chapters/28159914), Steve Rogers x Reader

2\. [Beg Me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12378906/chapters/28160013), Bucky Barnes x Reader


	2. To Please Him, To Please You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve Rogers x Reader, an exercise in pleasure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW. Light-bondage. Sensory deprivation. Oral (male receiving). Pet names. Established relationship.

Steve takes you by the hand, a soft touch, his calloused fingers caressing the pad of your thumb as he lays you on the bed. Your eyes find his as you watch him in anticipation. Those war-hardened fingers brushing against your skin as he binds first one wrist to the headboard, then the other. The silk of the cord he uses only adds to your arousal, the same way his body moving over you as he works does. 

You lean forward, an action that moves your entire torso, forcing to to work against the binds he’s made, to try and kiss his perfect pink lips, to kiss any part of him. To have  _any_  connection to Steve Rogers whatsoever aside from where his fingers graze yours as he finalizes the knots.

As you look up at him, he brings something over your eyes. Something soft, silky. A tie? Your sleep-mask? What is it? You don’t think about it anymore, as he caresses your body. You half-expect him to bind your ankles, to leave you completely helpless, but Steve doesn’t, and for some reason that excites you more than if he had, sending a shock through you, leaving heat to pool at your core. You’re wet, so damn wet. So wanting. Waiting.

His fingers flit over you, a soft touch here at your cheek, a kiss there by your hip. You moan, softly, inaudibly. But Steve hears it, of course he does. His low chuckle tells you that he hears it. You feel the bed shift, and his breath is suddenly warm on your face as he whispers against your ear, “Not yet, sweet girl. Not yet.” The bed shifts again, an absence of breath that isn’t yours, and something wet touches your peaked breast, causing you to gasp.

His tongue.

You groan, your back arching, attempting to force more contact, any sort of contact. Steve places a hand on your shoulder and pushes, you resist momentarily, but eventually sink back into the bed, waiting. Always waiting. His hands are on your thighs now, massaging the soft flesh there, there. So close, but so far. You’re wetter now, if that’s even possible. Not knowing what he will do makes you ache with need. He could enter you now, and there would be no resistance.

But he doesn’t, he holds back, shifting between your legs, placing them around his waist. But even then, he is not done. He isn’t even undressed. You mewl in frustration, and there’s that laugh again. That sound that means ’ _No, you can’t have what you want. No you can’t get this. No._ ’ It’s so frustrating, and you try to gyrate against him, to feel some part of your lover against your core. Against you.

Your clit grazes a seam on Steve’s jeans causing you to buck your hips, ecstatic at the contact, but when you attempt to go back to it, it’s gone. He holds himself away from you. And then suddenly he is gone from between your thighs, punishing you it would seem with the far off sound of a zipper, a whisper of denim dropping to the floor. You whimper, missing his presence, and a soft plea escapes your lips. “Please?”

“Beg. Beg for it, kitten.” His voice is almost a purr, so close to your ear but there’s no tell-tale mist of breath.

That huskiness makes you weak. Your knees, your lips, your breasts tremble with want, with passion. There’s that whimper again, dripping from your lips the way you’re absolutely sure your slick drips from your folds. Your skin prickles, every nerve ending open, waiting for his touch. There. His fingers grasp your nipple, tugging softly at first, then harder.

“Harder…” The word whispers from your mouth, answered only by a finger pressed against your lips. Silencing you. You kiss it, trying to pull it into your mouth, to make love to it the way you pray Steve will make love to you. “Please?”

That chuckle again. Oh, you could hate that husky play of sound.

Or love it.

The finger is gone, and your tongue snakes out, wetting your lips only to touch something else. Your tongue tentatively reaches further, wanting. His cock is like satin on your tongue, the finest Egyptian cotton couldn’t compare. Hands caress your hair, tugging, giving you a silent cue.

Within moments he is inside your mouth, filling it just the way you hope he will fill your soaking cunt. Slowly, Steve begins rocking, pushing further, deeper. You groan around him, tasting him. You writhe as you suck him deeper, your cheeks hollowing as your legs press together from knee to hip. Your feet nearly tucked under you buttocks, as you try to lessen the pressure deep within your core. The way he feels in your mouth, your throat, is almost unbearable. You love it. You never want it to stop. All that exists is pleasuring him, pleasing him. Steve.

He rocks deeper, and you open your throat, accept him because to struggle would be pointless. And you don’t even want to struggle. Moans reach your ears, soft, deep. So unbelievably sexy as his hips begin to move faster, fucking your throat. You don’t mind. In this moment you live for him, for his cock.

Every moment is ecstasy, and torture. Your tongue works against the underside of his shaft, doing its best. Steve groan’s in pleasure, and then suddenly the blindfold is gone. “I have to see you…” His words are a rush, a prayer. Your eyes fly to his and he stills, the base of his cock fisted in one hand, the other holding the headboard. His cock jerks once, twice, thrice in your mouth.  

Swallowing, quickly, and cleaning the remnants of his release off of him, you smile up at him, before whispering softly, “Can you untie me? My shoulder fell asleep…”


	3. Beg Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky Barnes x Reader. Bucky makes you wait to cum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW. Aftercare. Degradation, name-calling. D/s dynamics. Masturbation. Oral (male receiving, female receiving). Orgasm-control/denial. Established relationship. Sergeant kink.

Bucky stands over you, his right hand clenched in your hair, his left fisting his sizable cock, and guiding it into your mouth. It’s utterly  _obscene_  how hot seeing his metal fingers wrapped around his length is. The way it makes your pussy tighten, and pulls a whimper from your stuffed mouth. He lets go of himself once he’s fully seated within your mouth, flesh and metal threading through your hair as he forces you to deep throat him. “Fuck, doll. Feels so good havin’ my cock down your throat.”

His words send a lighting bolt of desire through you as your nose brushes against the tight, wiry curls surrounding his groin. You gag slightly before you remember to breathe through your nose, and allow your throat to relax around his cock. Just as it gets to be too much, he pulls back, both hands still grasping your hair tightly. You can’t tell if the look on his face is awe, or just lust as he lets you catch your breath before thrusting back into you. 

As you suck and gag on Bucky’s cock, you can’t help but inch one of your hands between your folded knees, the pad of your middle finger barely brushing against your clit as he fucks your face. That single brush of your finger sends a tingle through you, begging yourself for more. You pinch your clit gently at first, as your tongue slides the length of him, caressing his cock as he pulls back to slide in once more.

Your fingers dip lower, parting your lips to dive into your wet slit. You moan around Bucky’s cock, and while he fucks your mouth, you mimic the speed and fuck yourself on your fingers. The vibrations of your moans bring his attention to your hand, and his already lust blown eyes darken further. He pulls himself from between your lips, and clutches your chin in his cool metallic grasp, “Don’t you dare think of cumming until I say you can, slut.”

You nod with a low moan, your fingers working faster at his words. But it isn’t enough, it never is.

“What have I told you about using your words?” The question is a growl deep in his chest that seeps into your joints, loosening you up. You swallow audibly, and it in turn, pulls a not unkind chuckle from the ex-assassin above you.

“I understand, Sergeant.” Your voice is barely a whisper, as his metal fingers shift to cup your cheek as he slowly works himself back into your mouth. Within moments he is fucking your throat with abandon, moans dropping from his open mouth to combine with the lewd sounds of your own choked whimpers as your fingers work faster. You know how quickly his military title makes him come undone, and as if his thoughts mirror your own, his body tenses above you. The hand cupping your cheek slides back into your hair as his pace in your mouth becomes relentless. The soreness of your jaw fades to the background as your eyes roll up to meet his. After several agonizing moments of him fucking your throat with wild abandon, he pulls away, metal fingers wrenching your hair further so your face is turned up towards him completely.

You know what comes next, and it makes your other hand snake down to rub your clit as your fingers continue their onslaught against your g-spot. Your whimper is full bodied with desire, as he begins to spill across your lower lip and chin with a growl, “Fuck, yes. Such a good little cockslut.” 

You want his cum so badly, you groan in frustration as he paints your cheek, then finally, your tongue. It’s a reward, for both you and him, and you’re so close to cumming, just from him allowing you to swallow his release. You mewl as the fingers in your slick cunt continue to hit you just where you need them to the most, and it pulls him from his post-orgasmic haze. Just before you can come apart, he rips your hands from between your thighs with his left hand, the other wrapping itself around your waist to drag you to your feet, pressing you back against the foot of the bed.

You moan, and writhe in frustration as he secures both your wrists in one hand, and holds you away from him. He lets your body cool down, just momentarily before he pushes you back onto the bed, kissing your forehead, your neck, your breasts. His tongue snakes out and tickles your peaked nipples, eliciting a breathy moan from your parted lips, before he’s moving back up.

“Beg me. Beg for me to let you cum. Beg me like the little cumslut you are.” His voice is a harsh, rasping whisper against your ear, and he bites your earlobe as he grinds out once more, “Beg. Me. Now. Slut.”

His words almost set you off, your thighs clenching together. But you do as he has demanded, his lips and teeth leave wet, bruising marks as he makes his way down your writhing body. “P-please. Please, Sarge. Let your slut cum. I-i know I shouldn’t h-have been touching, but please.” The tail end of your plea is drawn out his tongue dips into your navel, before trailing hotly down to your mons.

“Keep going, little whore.” He nips at the skin above your hood, and you need to cum so badly, you’re almost crying as you continue.

“Just th-this once, s-sir. Please, let your dirty little whore cum.” Your chest heaves when suddenly his tongue touches you, hot, and so wet. It swipes up your dripping slit to circle your clit, and then you do cry.

“Please, sir!” Your hands clench desperating at the air, begging to be buried in his hair, but knowing better than to touch him when you don’t even deserve to have his mouth licking so hotly into you. Instead they grasp the duvet beneath you, anything you can hold onto when suddenly cool metal fingers are working their way inside you, and you’re terrified that you’ll cum without permission from your Sergeant. 

You’re so slick, so ready. All you want is to let go, to cum, but he won’t let you.

“Not fuckin’ yet, slut. You don’t get to cum yet.” The words are spat around your clit as he sucks it, nibbling lightly. You writhe, your back arching off the bed, with need. It’s so hard to keep from cumming, but you cannot disappoint him. You can’t stand to see the look on his face if you cum without permission.

“Sergeant!” It’s a shriek now, and you know in the next few moments, no matter what, you’ll have no choice but to disobey and disappoint Bucky. You can feel it, the dark flush that heats your skin, your toes curling, your back bowing, and his fingers, a punishing rush between your thighs as he fucks you. “P-please…” It’s a whisper, a near silent plea, because you can only concentrate on not disobeying your Sergeant, your Bucky.

Just when you think you can’t hold it, he lifts his head from the apex of your thighs, your slick shining on his chin, and demands in a fierce growl, “Cum. Be a good little whore and cum for me.”

And you do. Your orgasm ripping from your throat, strained whimpers mixing with a sharp keening that you only sort of register as coming from yourself as you come apart beneath him.

He places a light kiss to your clit and it makes you scream from the sensitivity. He chuckles softly, massaging the muscles of your thighs slowly. Then your calves, as he leaves the bed, and you whimper at the loss of his immense body heat near you. You can’t see, but you hear him, “Shhh, I’ll be right back babygirl. Don’t worry. I’ve got you baby.” 

It feels like an eternity before he’s back, but suddenly you’re being pulled into his lap, being enveloped by strong arms, and a warm blanket you hazily recognize as the one from the couch. Plastic crinkles, and brushes against lips you can’t seem to get dry as Bucky instructs you to drink. “I need you to drink, doll. There’s two more bottles just like this with your name on them.”

He nuzzles your neck as you settle further into his lap, gladly allowing him to slowly administer water to you. After the second bottle is finished, and you shake your head when he reaches for the third one, he kisses your forehead, and tilts your chin so he can look into your eyes, “Are you okay, babygirl?”

You nod, your eyes drifting closed for a moment before you smile languidly, “So sleepy, Buck. Can we sleep now, please?”

“Anything, babydoll. Anything for you.”


End file.
